Miles seems almost -- unaware of Kurt's shaky hands unbuttoning his pants, settling with his back against one of the more sturdy posts holding the lean-to up. His cock reacts, sliding free into Kurt's hand, the same tapered, slick shape they must be so used to by now -- more familiar with werewolf cock than human, likely. The thought has his expression darkening minutely, hand reaching out to slide through Kurt's long hair, loose from the braid they'd worn when he'd taken them.

"I prefer," he began softly, almost tenderly, voice remaining just as gentle as he abruptly twisting his hand in their hair, yanking their head back hard, wrenching them up onto their knees. "If you keep that pretty mouth shut if I'm not fucking it. Understand?" Miles meets Kurt's eyes evenly, calmly, twisting his hand tighter and tighter, then shaking them a little to punctuate his final word.

Then: "Open, tongue out. Hold still. If I want you to talk, I'll ask you a question. If not, don't make a sound. Nod if you understand."